Roberto Bolaño Ávalos, post-Boom Latin American writer and regular contributor to Diff Int, has been a dominating topic of internet conversation since his book The Savage Detectives became fashionable to talk about. Guy has reached a literary god-like status, published by Paris Review and The New Yorker on the reg. You'll often, but not always (absolutism), meet two kinds of Bolaño readers. The first initially introduced me to Bolaño, a devout fan and devoted reader, who will tell you to start with The Savage Detectives but that once you get to 2666 you'll think it's "Mickey Mouse shit" (which I disagree with). The second is a little more dismissive, maybe they couldn't get over the coming-of-ageness quality of the first part of TSD, or who just got bored with all the gossip in the middle part. I can understand both, but don't fit into either category. One thing that most people who actually have read Bolaño can agree on is that the guy is unlike anything you've ever read before. He's modern expat lit.
countless praise.
It results in the rummaging of a dead man's property and publishers' banking on unfinished and underdeveloped works. This year with the publishing of The Secret of Evil we have accessed a raw (data stored in his terminal hard drive) side of Bolaño's writing. One of his "stories" is a blatant smearing of Argentineans, which Bolaño subtly describes as goat fuckers. Heck, he's so popular, not only will people buy ANYTHING published by the man, but they'll even brand themselves as Savage Consumers.
as with anything that
reaches a high
and praise it m ust b e p r e p a r e d
for the eventual
hey i'm over this or never liked this or still don't get it or he's good but not that or isn't there something better we could be reading and/or publishizing?
XSAMPL #ONE
"...I decided to read 2666, the novel widely considered Bolaño’s masterwork, for the sole purpose of becoming better equipped to shit on everything he’d done."
"...I remain only a quasi-skeptical and moderate admirer of Bolaño,
at best."
SLAMPEL #TWO
None of these statements, arguments and or discussion topic articles are invalid. In fact, they aren't even the opposite of invalid. But I feel like they miss the point. 2666 isn't as much of a book as it is a slow swirl around a dark pit of evil and hatred you eventually slip into. TSD isn't too far off, more about the illusions surrounding the hole, the chit-chat and traditional wisdoms of skin and flesh living beings. But what about the music?
You hear people talk about his "problems of a sexual nature," aka he couldn't get it up, about how many women taken to bed (has a big one), drug rumors, being a heroin junkie, what finally killed him in the end, but ain't no one talking about the fact that the dude lived in Mexico City D.F., about his travels, the cool people in and out of his life. Wanna talk about his books being full of suggestions, hints, echoes? Can this be anymore clear?
You should go bash that window.
"What do you make of this? I've been looking at it for more than forty minutes and I haven't understood a goddamn thing. Really. I might as well tell you the truth."
Have you tried looking at What's outside the window?
